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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362215">Afterlife ain't so bad</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendotsandwords/pseuds/greendotsandwords'>greendotsandwords</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Cupid - Freeform, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hope, POV First Person, What did Jackie do after he died?, You wouldn't believe if I told you!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:33:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendotsandwords/pseuds/greendotsandwords</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A newly appointed cupid intern shares some insights about his work and his new life. He brings together a certain techie and a merc... and makes more love happen, while learning his new trade as a heavenly matchmaker.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Judy Alvarez/Female V, Misty Olszewski/A guy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Lizzie's Bar Valentine's Challenge 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LizziesBarVDay21">LizziesBarVDay21</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a story for Lizzie's Bar 2021 Valentine's Day challenge.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You know, my chooms... when I died, I thought that was it for me. It was the saddest fucking way to die, too! Now that I think of it, if I could pick, I think I would have preferred to die earlier. Maybe around twenty minutes earlier. Maybe I would have gotten outta that Delamain (Excelsior package, choombas. EXCELSIOR! I saved up three months for that for my nephew's wedding and didn't get it!) and shot Adam fucking Smasher in his ugly metal face. That'd be a way to go, am I right? Come on, you know it would be epic!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no... I had to die in the saddest possible way. My liver still hurts. Or maybe it was my spleen? Who cares... I'd probably cry if I watched it in a BD or something like it. But I'm getting side-tracked. You know, when you're trying to tinker with your ride but you smell your madre cooking up some chili and you totally can't focus on repairing anything anymore? Yeah, it's a bit like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where was I? Oh right, yeah. I died. But even though I did some things in life like shooting up gonks, being in a gang, and maybe even stole something from a really important guy who's also sort of dead, too, I wasn't a bad guy. Had my heart in the right place, ya know? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, my momma taught me well, and I knew that Santa Madre would put in a good word for me for all those prayers I sent her way. Like “Please, Mother Mary, let that motherfucker miss, shotguns are a painful way to go...” or another one that really saved my ass, “Please, Santa Madre, don't let that MaxTac patrol see me because I'll be more toast than the chingados that go to hell!” It's all about believing and being respectful and honest in your prayers, let me tell you that. And keeping your head behind cover if people are shooting. But a little prayer never killed nobody, so who's to say if I'm right or wrong?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Life after death ain't so bad, is all I'm tryna say, chooms. At least for me it isn't. They must have seen my potential somewhere high above the clouds, because they gave me something to do instead of just hanging around the green fields and chatting to all those Aristotles and other wise guys (Maybe they have more than one Aristotle there, I don't even know... that's T-Bug's thing right there).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My job is simple. I fly around and shoot people. I know what you're gonna say, it ain't that different from what I used to do in life and all, but lemme stop you right there with your hurtful assumptions! I don't even need no iron for that job! Ha, how's that for a surprise? I got a bow instead. It kinda looks like the iron I used to own, so there's that. Maybe they give it to you based on your personality? I didn't really ask. It's kind of small and at first I thought it looked silly, but it packs quite a punch. Add a quiver to it, and we've got my tools of the trade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have this preem white sash that goes over my bod and covers everything. Not that I need it, cause I'm... now listen to this. Better sit down before I tell you. I'm invisible, chooms! No one sees me coming, no one knows I'm there! At first I couldn't get used to it and thought that I was gonna get seen or bump into people all the time, but they don't see me! Cats kinda creep me out, because I think they can see me... creepy fuckers, let me tell you. But yeah, cats can't talk so they don't tell on me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when I get down to business, I strike unnoticed, when no one expects it, and everything goes well from there. Well, at least it's supposed to. Part of a job. You'd think I'm some merciless ninja hitman, yeah? Think again, choom cause your boy here is actually a herald of something much more positive!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I shoot my bow and arrow, magical things happen. You could call me a delivery service for the flutter of hearts. The messenger of mushiness. The transport company behind u-hauls on second dates. The anti-fire department, but for happy feelings. How do I put it plainly? Well... I make people fall in love. Ayup, totally. I'm a fucking cupid. No, seriously, you want an arrow? Thought so. Unbelievers...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I really love my job, too. I get to travel all around the world, get dropped in all those amazing places I've never even seen before and meet people whose lives are about to get changed. I don't really meet them, but you know how they say that seeing the effects of your work is really satisfying? Get this – after a good shot I see exactly how their eyes light up. How they look at someone else and just forget about the world for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, the best gigs are where you have to sting two people and see them notice each other in a completely different way. Sometimes it's on the street, just two souls passing each other by. Sometimes they bump into each other – then you get to do a trick shot and try and hit them both with one arrow. Those are fun, choomba! At other times, it's a bit more complicated...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Imagine two strangers talking or doing a virtu or a game, but they're into different countries or on the opposite sides of the world. Then you gotta watch your tempo... One person says something funny or cute... Bang! One arrow goes straight at'em. Well, it's more of a whoop. Maybe a hwoop even. Not a bang, but you get my drift, right? Yeah, so one person gets stung. Choom begins to smile like a gonk, things to themselves, “Hey, this person is kinda nice... what if that's someone for me?” And then I gotta really delta outta there on my wings and get to the other person, wait for the first one to respond with something equally funny and then... another hit! And that's how two gonks fall in love over the net. Some even move in together, would you believe it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On occasion, you get more than two people. It's usually a lot more complicated, and some higher-ups at my gig factory don't really know what to do about these cases, but it doesn't matter to me. The more happy people the better. Triangles, squares, hexagons, I'm all about geometry! It's really neat. For some reason they don't let me do pentacles at all. Apparently has something to do with the guys down below, not that I have anything to do with those infernal gonks...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's sad cases sometimes, too. Sometimes there's only one arrow to use, and you can kinda watch the person sigh all day, they try and try, but nothing ever happens. Just no spark, nothing from the other side. Sometimes it really ends in tears. Sometimes the other side eventually gets the  arrow. And sometimes nothing changes... Bosses say it builds character, but I just think it's really sad... and I don't like doing those kinds of  gigs but hey, you arrow who you gotta arrow, them preem wings and sash don't come for free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You might wonder why I'm telling you all this... Spinning the story like only this choom can tell a tale, with a big grin and a big heart. I wanted to tell you about one of my first jobs. I wasn't sure why it  was special, I was still kind of confused from the whole dying thing. I was an intern, let's call it that. Except there's no bringing coffee in the afterlife. You get gigs and do the job. I'm really glad I don't get to shadow people everywhere like guardians, or push paper like thrones. That shit's boring, yo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hear me out, though. This case was complicated, but for some reason... I can't quite explain why, it's one of my favorites. They say that you forget most of your life once you're in the after. People, faces, things... Some things stay with you, others don't. Apparently it's pretty random. Maybe it was someone I used to know, doesn't matter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was this one chica from a place called Night City. Real dumpster. Dangerous, too... Could have been a girl from Heywood with that fire in her heart, I swear to Santa Madre! The techie type, one that sits in a basement all day fixin' BD wreaths or whatever. She lost a friend. That was really tragic. Down below guys had a real field day with that friend, by the way. Nasty stuff. Wish I coulda helped. But there was this other gal who helped her with the entire thing, stuck with her, they became chooms, even though the other chick, packin' iron and generally not the goodest of beans if you get my meaning, was kind of heading to the afterlife anyway, from the look of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was one of those two-people-one-arrow kinda deals. There were a few opportunities to be had, but I was still an intern and my boss said that I had to wait for a good moment. I almost fudged it all up, I kid you not. There was this moment when the dying gal wasn't feeling great after a pizza party, and our techie rushed to help her and ask if she was okay. I tried a trick shot but I only got the techie. And what? WHAM! The next morning she left that merc some coffee and a sandwich. I was so proud of myself I could cry...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I managed to get the merc on a different occasion. Was kind of easy mode, I'll admit, because it was  just after the techie gave her a kiss on the cheek, then walked away, looking over her shoulder. I ain't never seen an edgerunner blush like that, ha! Hit her right in the heart with that one! She was a bit thickheaded, but that wasn't her fault. I wouldn't really rush to fall in love with anyone if I knew I was gonna die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wasn't long before they became lovebirds and exchanged keys. Was kinda sweet, I have to say. And no, I don't creep on people. Sometimes I just kind of check up on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another case that stuck with me for some reason... maybe because it was in the same city? I wouldn't know. It was quite some time after the techie and her merc. I hope those two made it out alive out of that city... Anyway, there was this quaint little shop. Almost not our territory, since it was all about chakras and stuff. It's more the guys from the east that handle this kind of thing, depending on what people believe. But sometimes it's all blurred so they just send in the bow-toting specialist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was this guy that some other department had their eyes on for quite a while. Things weren't great for him, to put it mildly. He asked for help a lot, but there are just some things on earth that even we can't do, and the poor choom was just, pardon my language here, shit outta luck. He kept praying though, every day. Just like his abuela taught him when he was a kid, so we knew to watch over him, at least, and send him a good dream or two to at least make his waking moments a bit better. Don't look at me like that, I told you we can't just interfere with everything!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy in question found his way to that quaint shop and met a girl there. She wasn't in the best of places either, I think she was grieving, pobrecita... Must have been someone important to her. When people grieve, they have this black spot on their hearts, one we cupids can see. It means they shouldn't be shot, especially not when the spot is big and very black... I think my mentor used one of them fancy words for it... Hang on, I'll remember... Crepuscular, he called it. Light-eating. Her spot was really big at first, but in time it healed, and it was almost small enough for her to be eligible for an arrow again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she started talking to the guy, the one down on his luck, who came to the shop. She was surprised at first, and a bit scared, because he wasn't a lost delivery driver... and he didn't seem to rush into the clinic in the basement, where a ripperdoc ran his business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy and the blonde chica simply talked. About life, about inner peace, about how everything is so noisy, but they couldn't live without it anyway... And the black spot on her heart grew smaller and smaller... And that was when I knew. He found someone, so did she. Boom, trick shot! One arrow, two people! I felt really proud, for some reason. Proud and relieved. My cupid mentor put his hand on my shoulder and nodded, “I guess you're no longer an intern, then, Jackie Welles.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Thank you all!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thanks for reading, everyone! Happy Valentines Day, if you're celebrating with a special someone(s)! And if not... remember, the cupid is out there, doing the good work. Your time will come, too!</p>
  </div></div>
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